


The Nameless

by Finntrollhammaren



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Kinda, Kissing, M/M, Magnus is an idiot, Maybe - Freeform, Sadness, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, mostly angst, my problematic son, perhaps, revenge is comin baby, sad shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 01:10:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19262938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finntrollhammaren/pseuds/Finntrollhammaren
Summary: TW: SUICIDAL THEMES (not sure if 'graphic' depictions of violence is valid since I'm gonna be pretty vague but idk).Pre-S4 and Pre-Doomstar. Magnus plans on committing suicide but decides to write a lengthy suicide note which is mostly an apology letter to Nathan (and the other members, but mostly him).Tells him to read it in a few days. Nathan doesn't listen and reads it early.





	The Nameless

**Author's Note:**

> "I never wanted anybody more than I wanted you  
> The only thing I ever really loved was hate."
> 
> TW: SUICIDAL THEMES. SELF HARM.
> 
> It'll have a happy ending because I am not capable of keeping a fic 110% sad. OOPS.

The ticking of the clock seemed to echo throughout his small studio apartment, the only light source being the small lamp he turned toward the desk so he could see what he was writing. His pen was still stuck on that first line, tapping incessantly to match the arm of the clock. Tap. Tap. Tap. There was also his own thoughts-- which started out as whispers and slowly turned into loud screams, demanding his attention. But the voices in his head were not his own. They were the voices of many different people. People he had wronged through out his life, people that hated him. People who's voices were only affirming what he already thought of himself. But one voice seemed to be the loudest, one that caused him to drop the pen in his hand and put his hands over his face to will it away. 

It was the voice of Nathan Explosion. Their last encounter was only a couple of years ago now, and it still felt like it was yesterday. His damaged eye started to almost.. throb when he thought of it, a subtle reminder of their bitter departure to each other. The shouting was even louder. "You're being crazy" over and over. Maybe he was crazy. Everyone else seemed to think he was. After he was kicked out of the band he.. lost it. Became bitter, angry, mean. Not that he wasn't an asshole at the best of times before, but that only became heightened. He had no friends now. His only 'friends' were the ones he was previously in a band with. He never left his house, except to work. He did odd jobs-- but mostly just sold drugs on the side. While he was busting his ass to pay rent, his ex-band members had made it big. Platinum record and everything. He didn't see a single penny from that, but he didn't expect to. That didn't make him any less resentful, though. 

There was no reaching out to them. What was he supposed to say? They had replaced him almost immediately, and he wasn't sure where to begin with an apology. What was the point in apologizing? It wouldn't change what transpired between them. What was done.. was done. Nathan most likely bared an ugly scar now, and it wasn't as if he could make that go away. Magnus had very little vision in his left eye, only able to see shadows and vague shapes with no actual detail. He couldn't really say who had it worse. Nathan looked up to him. He knew that. Magnus was older by almost a decade, so it was to be expected that he would be a vague idol figure in Nathan's life. He looked up to him and then he turned around and.. crushed him. Become controlling, awful, hard to deal with. Nathan had no choice when he kicked him out. He knew that deep down. 

So here he was, picking up the pen again and letting a sigh leave his lips. Tap. Tap. Tap. How do you start a suicide note without sounding like another cliche? Another 'woe is me, my life is so hard' type of story?. He wanted to be different. Stand out. Be remembered. Infamy is still some kind of attention. He didn't want people to feel guilty, or that they had a part to play in his death. The note would simply be... an explanation. So people could know why he was doing it, instead of being left with a dozen questions. He knew there weren't many people who would even notice that he was gone. Hell, even the people that DID know about him would simply bat an eyelid at the news. So why... why was he bothering? Was it closure for them, or for himself?. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Magnus took a swig from his bottle of whiskey, shaking his head and beginning to write on the paper with a shaky hand. 

'This.... shouldn't be a surprise, to anyone. I was doomed to end up this way, right? Alone, with nothing. I think I deserve it. This isn't supposed to be a guilt trip or anything.. I'm only stating the facts. I'm a useless human being with nothing significant to offer the world. I'm a leper. I'm a disease. It's time that I come to terms with it, and do what needs to be done. But first... I owe all of you an apology, and an explanation. While I don't think you'll give a fuck, this is more for me than it is for you.

Guess that's just my selfish nature talking. I'll... go in order, or something. I'm only writing one note-- so you'll all have to share it amongst yourselves. I'm too cheap to give you all personalized suicide notes-- sorry about that.'

He paused to laugh bitterly at his own wording, taking another swig from the bottle and thinking he should have added poison to it. But then he might die before he even got to deliver the letter, and that would sort of defeat the entire purpose of it. He tossed the now empty bottle across the room, turning his attention back to the paper. 

'Nathan.'

That hurt to write. His hand shook more than it did with the rest of the letter, and it was apparent by the fact Nathan's name looked like an obscure black metal band's new logo. Barely legible. He would need to work on his penmanship for the rest of this. Man up, Magnus. It's just a little suicide note. Many people before you have wrote them. It's not a big deal. Get over yourself. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

'....I'm sorry. Not even just about stabbing you. That was... well, that was horrible. But we both know that I treated you terribly well before that happened between us. Hell, you were basically still a kid when we met. Well, to me. You'd always get mad and remind me that you were seventeen, which was practically an adult. But to me you were just some dude in high school that almost towered over me even ignoring that I was supposed to be the adult. Then we started to spend a lot of time together. You'd even call me your mentor. You ended up dropping out so we could start a band-- just shy of your senior year graduation. The band didn't take off for a while. I think we just liked hanging out too much. But as you got older, you got better. You started practicing your vocals, putting up audition flyers, coming up with band names. I was always... so impressed by you. Proud of you, even. I don't think I told you that enough. But I really did think you were cool.' 

A tear drop fell right on the page and caused the ink to bleed a bit, and Magnus hurriedly wiped at his eyes to stop the tears from falling. Reminiscing was painful. Thinking that there was a time in his life when everything was going right and he was.. genuinely happy was too much to handle right now. It was the realization that he, at one point, felt like he had it all. But having it all was never good enough for him, now was it?. He needed to finish this. The longer this took, the more he was only prolonging the inevitable. 

'It was then you started to overpass me. You were the vocalist, so they all looked up to you. You didn't seem to idolize me as much as you used to. I began to fade into the background.. so I started lashing out to get your attention. To get everybody's attention. I just wanted you to look at me. I wanted to be your priority. I wanted to have the control in my life that I felt I had lost. I know now that I was wrong. But.. sometimes you don't realize things until they're too late. So.. I'm sorry. I'm starting to realize now that I think I might have been in love with you. Part of me still is. I didn't know it at the time, because I had never experienced it. Never felt loved. Never been in love. But it was always different with you. I know... this means nothing now. I know you despise me. That's.. fine. Again, it was mostly something I needed to tell you for my own benefit. I can die knowing I was finally honest about my feelings. I'll always have the good times we had together. Before they all became bad.

So.. I think this is goodbye. Don't worry, I won't have a funeral. My parents don't even know where I am. I moved out ages ago with no contact information. I won't even have a headstone. You'll have an easy enough time forgetting I even existed. There won't even be a trace of me. I promise to not be a burden in your life any longer.' 

He wanted to be remembered-- but he was fooling himself if he thought his memory would live on at all. No, it's like he said in his note. He was a leper. A nobody. Now.. for the others. He could just write a simple, short apology for each of them. Nothing too special. No offense, fellas. He was just running out of things to say. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

'Pickles... I don't have a lot to say. Except.. I'm sorry for telling you to stop making things your own. They were good. You're... a fucking amazing drummer, dude. I think I was jealous of that. But you were a good guy. We never really.. hung out aside from band practice, but I can tell that you have a good thing going for you. I'm sorry that I don't have more to say. But.. keep kicking ass out there, I guess.'

He wrote along the same thing for both William and Skwisgaar, but made them all unique enough to hopefully make them feel appreciated. Not that they cared what he thought about them, but it was something.

'By the time you read this, I'll already be gone. When I give this letter to you, I'm going to tell you to wait a couple of days before opening it. I wanted a large enough window in case I was.. too scared to take my life immediately. I need the time to get the courage. I always have been a bit of a coward. You all know that by the way I got my ass kicked the last time we were in a room together. 

Not that you will, but I'll say it anyway: don't worry about finding my body. I'll just rot in my apartment and get eaten by flys and maggots until someone in my complex or along my floor complains about a rotting smell. Don't know how long that will take. It would probably make a good album cover. Sorta like that Mayhem one. I give you permission to use my corpse as album artwork if you want.

Well.. I'm running out of room. I only have one piece of paper. So.. goodbye. I'm sorry for everything. Take care of that kid who replaced me. Seems nice.'

The pen clattered against the desk, and Magnus let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding in. He finally wrote it. A letter that was, admittedly, almost four months in the making, but he never quite got to putting the ink on the paper. It took an entire bottle of whiskey to do it this time, though. He neatly folded the letter and slipped it inside of an envelope, using his own saliva to seal it before it landed back on the desk. With more shaky penmanship he scribbled Nathan's name on the front, deciding he would personally deliver it to him and just.. let him pass it on to the others when he was finished. Granted, this was all implying he even read it at all. He could easily rip it up into pieces the moment Magnus walked away. That was the more likely outcome.

He stumbled to his feet and clutched the letter in his hand, already knowing the bars and overall establishments the Dethklok vocalist frequented and decided to just hang around at each of them until he showed up. Nathan had moved out of their old studio soon after Magnus had been kicked out, so he didn't really have a formal address. Guess he would resort to stalking and hope for the best.

The first bar wasn't too far from his apartment, actually. He wondered if Nathan knew that. Probably not. The air from outside had sobered him up enough to have him walking upright when he went inside, making a beeline right for a table in a dimly lit corner that had a good view of the door. This was a long shot. What would be the chances that Nathan would just so happen to come in here for a drink, right when Magnus has something important to give to him? Also, what if the rest of the band was with him? It wouldn't be a surprise-- but it would be a hell of a lot harder for him to deliver this letter. They would all have a number of things to say about it.

Okay, this was a bad idea. This was a stupid idea. He should really just quite while he was ahea--- WAIT.

His breath caught in his throat as the front door swung open, and he could see the silhouette of a man with long black hair enter. As Magnus' eyes adjusted to the lightening he could see that it was Nathan, who appeared to have a couple of guards with him but no one else. What were the fucking chances of this happening? Seemed like Magnus was given a stroke of good luck for the last time. But.. now it all felt too real. There he was. Sitting at the bar only a few meters away, ordering a beer with a gravelly voice. Still just as confident as he remembered. Holding his head up high. Magnus had to.. walk up there, thrust a letter against his chest, and leave. That was it. Simple enough. Yet he currently felt glued to his chair. Paralyzed from the waist down. The letter looked like the edges were razor sharp-- preparing to slice him to bits the moment he touched it. God, this was so fucking hard.

Magnus took a deep breath and grabbed the letter, forcing himself to his feet and gripping the table since his legs now felt like jello. His adrenaline was already running out. Nathan still had not became aware of his presence, simply ordering another beer and releasing an aura that was more than a little bit intimating. So, he began to make his first steps. Inching forward, ever so carefully. Like he was a predator hunting for his prey. But this situation was far from that. Nathan was the predator, and Magnus was currently the timid gazelle just trying to get to the watering hole.

It was now or never. He was within a few feet before he coughed loudly, the guards that were with Nathan already standing up and getting between him and Magnus. He carefully held up the letter and coughed again, not able to verbally say Nathan's name since he knew it would make him start crying. Luckily the coughing worked, and he spun around in his seat to figure out who the hell was bothering him while he was trying to drink alone. "....Magnus?" He seemed stunned from the revelation, blinking slowly and gesturing for the guards to step aside. If Magnus really did try to do anything, Nathan was more than capable of handling it himself. Easy to tell from their messy past. "What do you want?" He didn't really sound.. mad, exactly. Just annoyed.

"This is for you. Please don't uh... rip it up. Or burn it. Just... read it. Not now. In a few days. It's important that you wait a few days first. It'll make sense when you eventually open it. There's some... really important stuff in there." He babbled out all at once, barely pausing as he held out the envelope with Nathan's name on it. There were already tears welling up in his eyes, so he was wanting to get out of here as soon as possible. Just take the fucking letter, Nathan.

He did. Nathan slowly extended his hand and took the letter from Magnus, raising an eyebrow as he examined it. "....Alright." He finally muttered, turning around and placing it on the bar in front of him. By the time he turned back to try ask him what it was about he was already gone, the bar door slamming shut behind him. That was... weird. He ordered yet another beer while eyeing the letter from the corner of his eye, wondering why he was supposed to wait until he looked at it. His birthday was more than a few days away, so it couldn't be that. He also couldn't think of any possible holidays that were coming up, so it wasn't that. Surely, it would be fine if he decided to look at it now, right? It was probably just a joke. A piece of paper with a giant 'fuck you' written on it. Magnus was a bitter piece of work, after all.

But he decided to be patient and wait a couple of hours, until the bar was starting to close and he was being told he needed to leave. He stood outside of the establishment with each guard at his side and ripped open the envelope, eyes beginning to scan the letter. "Doomed to end up this way?" he muttered to himself, eyebrows furrowed as he read each word and finally landed on his name. An apology. As much as he wanted to hate this, the moment he read the first paragraph a smile appeared on his lips. He remembered that. Getting mad every time Magnus called him a kid or implied he was immature. Dropping out of school to be a musician and spend more time with him. Wanting so badly to impress Magnus. Maybe they had a chance to reconcile.

Then he read the second part. It was... a lot to take in. Especially the confession. Why the fuck did he wait until now to say that he loved him? Why didn't he say it all those years ago, when it would have meant the most to him?. Nathan clenched the paper hard enough to crumple it a bit, but took a few breaths to calm himself down. Now that he started to read it, he needed to see it through until the end. It was then he realized what the letter was about. Why Magnus was apologizing. Why he wanted Nathan to wait a few days before he opened it. The moment he saw the word 'die' he tensed up and looked around, speeding through the rest to confirm his fears. It was.. a fucking suicide note. Magnus just wanted to have a clean slate before he left the universe. He wanted Nathan to wait so that he would be long gone before he got the chance to do anything about it.

That fucking asshole. He still lived in that shitty studio apartment, right? Maybe he wasn't too late.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was dark again. But the lamp was on. He needed to make sure he was taking the right pills, or this wouldn't do anything except give him a stomach ache. He placed half a dozen bottles on the same desk he wrote the letter on a few hours prior, furrowing his eyebrows as he read each label carefully. Some of these were obtained by.. doing trades. People would be wiling to give a lot to score some weed or... other kinds of street drugs, he learned. Hopefully one of these would be lethal enough to kill him if they were taken in a high enough dosage. He had another bottle of whiskey by his side-- something to wash the pills down with. It would help kill him faster. Maybe he would die with a bit of a buzz.

His eyes landed on the last bottle in the row, a prescription he KNEW would be lethal enough to kill him within an hour or two if he was lucky. The bottle wasn't full, but there were more than enough to do what needed to be done. He better not be wrong about this. A hand swept out to knock the other bottles off the table, and Magnus opened the final bottle and stared inside. They looked like the right thing. There was enough for a pretty good handful. The bottle was placed back on the table and he opened up the bottle of whiskey, taking a generous swig of it before he did anything else. It felt fair to enjoy one last drink before it was time for the real deal.

He paused, leaning back in his chair to stare up at the ceiling. This was really it. His entire life led up to... nothing. He was in his mid 30s and had no major accomplishments to show off. No loved ones to carry on his legacy. No family to cry over his casket at some grand funeral. Instead he would just.. rot. Be a good meal for some bugs. Then get buried in an unmarked grave in a nearby cemetery. Never left any flowers. Trampled by visitors that didn't even realize he was there. If there was an afterlife, he would end up stuck in purgatory forced to haunt the land forever. No happy ending for him. People like him didn't deserve happy endings.

Magnus dumped the bottle of pills into the palm of his hand, holding the whiskey bottle in the other as his eyes darted between the two. Here goes nothing. He began to lift the pills to his mouth, hand shaking as he almost dropped them all over the floor. He should have just illegally bought a gun instead and blew his brains out. At least that was something quick and painless. This was going to be slow. Painful. But.. he knew he deserved it this way. Deserved to feel his organs slowly shutting down, until he was struggling to breathe and his vision became spotty. All someone like him deserved was pain. It was with that thought he dumped the pills in his mouth and chugged the bottle of whiskey, swallowing hard and letting himself relax.

It was already happening. His vision was spotty. His limbs felt like they were no longer attached to his body. He felt like he was floating away. It was.. a lot more peaceful than he thought it would be. He could see himself closing his own eyes, entire body starting to slump out of the cheap chair it was sat in. This was it. He had done it. He was... gone.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If only that was the case.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Nathan stared at the apartment door, silently praying that he had the right address. He hoped he wasn't too late. His forehead was covered in sweat. He was shaking. He told the guards to stay inside the vehicle, since the last thing he wanted was Magnus to feel more afraid than he was sure he already did. Fuck. Fuck Magnus for doing this. Why was he even here? Why was he trying to stop him?. He had no time to think about that-- he needed to save the selfish asshole's life.

He kicked the door and watched it swing open, eyes landing on an unconscious Magnus surrounded by pill bottles and whiskey. Fuck. He was too late. No. No no no. He couldn't be. He rushed over and placed his fingers against the ex-guitarists' neck, feeling a barely-there pulse and springing right into action. Nathan turned the nearby bathroom light on and picked up the other man, heading into the room with him and panicking again. He needed to make him vomit them up. He needed to get those pills out of his system somehow. Two arms wrapped around Magnus from behind, holding him over the bathtub as he began to do some kind of weird version of the Heimlich maneuver. "Throw up you piece of shit. Come on. Fucking wake up!" He could feel tears in his eyes, as he made the same fluid movement over and over.

Nathan was about to give up-- about to accept he lost Magnus forever before he heard him cough. It started as a cough. Then, with another thrust from Nathan, turned into a retching noise. The vocalist let go as Magnus' body lurched forward and vomited, most of the pills still undigested since it had been only a few minutes since they were taken. Talk about good timing, right?.

Magnus couldn't stop vomiting. His throat burned. He wasn't aware of where he was. Or what was happening. Why was he puking them up? Why wasn't he dying? Who was crying behind him?. He felt like shit but had enough energy to turn his head to look at whoever ruined his happy ending, unable to believe his eyes when he saw who it was. Nathan. Sitting on the floor only a few feet away, knee tucked under his chin, hair in his face as his body shook with sobs. He... had never seen him like that before. Nathan was a man he had NEVER seen cry. Much less fall apart like he had now. "....Nathan?" He paused to vomit again, still puking up more pills and shuddering afterward. He needed some water. Badly.

Nathan looked up when he heard his name, watching Magnus puke once more before his body slumped back into a sitting position. He was avoiding eye contact, arms wrapped around his own body. Oh, fuck him. "You.... What the FUCK were you thinking, Magnus?!" He shouted, causing the other man to flinch and continue looking down at the tiled floor. "You just.. you find me, and hand me a goddamn suicide note? A fucking SUICIDE NOTE?!" He was standing now, pacing back and forth in the tiny room and running his hands through his hair. He had never been this angry before. This upset. Not even when Magnus had (literally) stabbed him in the back (well, shoulder. But close enough). This hurt so much more than any knife wound. He had no right to drop those major confessions on him, and then decide to die as if they meant nothing. Dying and leaving Nathan with a dozen questions and 'what if's.

The insanely defeated Magnus slowly got himself to his feet, gripping the nearby counter and turning on the tap to run his mouth under it. Oh, he missed having water. This felt good. He most likely wouldn't touch a drop of whiskey for a very, very long time. His eyes finally met Nathan's, and he could now see how red and puffy they were. Oh god, he really fucked up. "You weren't supposed to read it yet. I was supposed to already be dead long after you found o--" he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, before feeling a stinging sensation radiate across his cheek. Ow. He just came back from the brink of death, could Nathan hold back from punching him for now? Jeez. "That didn't answer my question, asshole! You told me you were in love with me in it. Why did... why the fuck did you wait?" He was no longer yelling, now more of a whisper as his voice cracked. He felt so goddamn fragile right now and it was all Magnus' fault.

"I told you in the note. I didn't know it was love at the time. I had never experienced it. Just mindless sex. It took me.. a lot of reflecting to realize how I really felt." He tried to smile but it faltered, wincing as he pulled some chunks of pill-vomit out of his hair. Oh, he also really needed a shower. "I wanted to leave this world knowing I told you everything. I didn't want to leave with.. well, how we ended things." He was able to laugh at that, a hand reaching up to rub at his cheek (which still really stung-- thanks, Nathan). But all Nathan did was stare at him, taking a few steps closer and tucking some of Magnus' hair behind his ears. "I'm really fucking angry with you right now. I'm just pretty drunk and exhausted from saving your life so I'm not showing it as much as I want to." He said, shuffling his boots against the floor. "But uh... for the record, you were my first real love. I mean, at first I chalked it up to being young and stupid. But it didn't go away. Then.. when you stabbed me I just... I felt betrayed." He didn't know why he was being so open-- but after the attempted suicide it seemed fair enough. "It wasn't even the knife in my shoulder that hurt the most."

Magnus placed an unsteady hand on Nathan's forearm, stumbling before falling right against his chest. His head moved to rest on a muscular shoulder, suddenly feeling very.. safe. Warm. "I know. I could see it when you looked at me. Well, maybe not the full extent of what it was." he muttered into his ear, and he could feel strong arms wrap around his body again. "You were always oblivious when it came to that shit. You could never see when someone just wanted you to be happy." Nathan sighed, holding Magnus tight and resisting the urge to cry like a little bitch again. This was a lot.

"I can't... undo what I did to you. To our friends. But... I want to try again. I don't want back in the band or anything.. but I want to have you back. The others too, if they're willing. But mostly you. My life has been... shit since you left it." He pulled away far enough to make proper eye contact with Nathan, feeling that damaged eye throb yet again. He wouldn't agree that he deserved a second chance-- but he certainly wouldn't decline if one was offered to him. He would make the most of it. He just wanted one more try to get this right. To get them right.

Nathan stared back at him, a choking noise leaving his lips. He really needed to stop almost crying. He had officially cried enough for the next five years, at minimum. So he took a moment and nodded, the tiniest of smiles appearing. Another thing he really never did. Smiling was NOT brutal. But who cared. Right now, none of that mattered. Just him and Magnus. Alone. Catching up on all the time they missed out on because Magnus was stupid and selfish and an asshole. He seemed different, though. Nathan could tell just by looking at him that he meant what he said. They could get through this if they tried hard enough.

"I'm here. I can't speak for the others but.. I'm here. Just... don't pull that shit again. That goes for being a controlling asshole, stabbing me, and trying to kill yourself. Got it? I won't tolerate any fucking bullshit from you." He had to be harsh with him-- all things considered, this was letting him off lightly. But Magnus would always have a place in his heart-- as much as he hated that. Magnus nodded eagerly, hand moving up to caress Nathan's cheek with his thumb. "I got it. Loud and clear, Nate." It had been... a very long time since he called him Nate. The nickname he used to say until Nathan turned twenty years old and insisted it made him sound too childish. That visibly brought Nathan's defenses down, and he pressed their foreheads together. "I hate that nickname." he whispered, focusing on the warm breath fanning his face and realizing it smelt a lot like whiskey. Hm.

"I know." Magnus stayed as close as possible, wanting to relish in this as much as he could before the moment ended. He closed his eyes, keeping one hand pressed on Nathan's cheek. "I'm definitely still in love with you. I know it'll... take a lot for you to feel the same way again.. but I won't stop. I want to be good enough for you. One day." He then felt lips on his forehead-- but the moment was so brief he barely got the chance to register before it was over. Wow. That... definitely happened. It may not have been a kiss on the lips, but it was more intimate than anything he expected right now.

"We'll get there. Now... take a fucking shower. You smell like vomit and whiskey." Nathan cut the sweet moment short, gently pulling away and pointing to the shower in question. Well, guess that had to end eventually.

Magnus rolled his eyes, sarcastically saluting and exclaiming "aye aye captain" before ushering Nathan out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

Nathan stood outside the bathroom, turning on the rest of the lights in the small apartment and parking himself down on the couch to turn the TV on. As a random show began to play he smiled again, slowly turning into a full grin. Maybe they would be okay. Eventually.


End file.
